Draco Omniscient
by Insane Pineapple from Naboo
Summary: Draco's views on the world around him.


Author's Notes: This is dedicated to Elvish Fairy. He isn't hot, Danielle; I'm sorry, but no. 

Disclaimer: You guys can have Draco. I don't even like him. I'm just writing this because Danielle requested it. *grumbles* she could have written it herself.

Draco Omniscient 

Becoming a death eater would be a pointless waste of my fruitful existence. I will not become a lowly servant beckoning to my master's every call. On the first trip, I could just imagine myself saying, "Ok, Master, I'll kill these pitiful excuses of muggles for you. Try not to break a nail while you're at it. Oh, and while I'm here, can I get you a glass of water?" The bitter irony of it all. My father expects so little of me. 

So am I becoming another generation of Potters? I shudder at the thought. Harry Potter is a complete misfortune to my health. Every time he does something tragically idiotic, I feel as if I need to pound into his head Slytherin logic. Perhaps my sense of illogical triumph could persuade the Gryffindor in him to fend for himself. Probably not; Potter's head is as thick as an iron sheet. No matter how much you hammer it to your own perfection, it would bend to his own use. He truly is another lost cause waiting for stupidity to later be seen as heroism. I wait for the day when one of his actions is seen for what it really is. Idiocy laced with sheer dumb luck. 

It is an insult to my complete omniscience to believe that Crabbe and Goyle do everything for me. They wouldn't have made it this far without me. It is preposterous to believe they have minds of their own. Without me, they got themselves locked in a closet with cupcakes. How this appeared to have happened completely alludes me. I know that Potter was involved; however, all verifications of this disappeared. Perhaps Granger took it a step too far. 

The simplicity of my current situation was exclusively overlooked in my haste to analyze the complication. This puzzle escaped my grasp with the answer mocking me under my nose. A failed potion experiment by the incompetent Longbottom seemed to have sprung only towards me. It had marred by perfect mask of sheer ravishing looks. I had been in such alacrity to remove the annoyance when I completely missed the solution. I tried several counter curses before Professor Snape did a simple cleaning spell on me. In the atrocity of the act, I stormed out of the classroom. 

Throughout the hallways, I ran into the bubbling headmaster. He seemed almost flabbergasted to see me. I know not why he acts like this for he knows everything that goes on in this cage of a building. "You should be in class, Mr. Malfoy," he says with that scandalous look in his eyes. The man has power, but he should have been a Slytherin. He plots everybody's lives out for him or her without any say from them. I will not be controlled by Voldemort, and I will not be controlled by Dumbledore. 

I'm on my own side. In my vast realm of solitude, everything is controlled to my tastes. Nobody is on my side, and thus I am on no one's side. A true Slytherin fights for himself or herself, and runs when they need to. That is the one perfect flaw for Gryffindor and its ultimate downfall. They depend too much on others for survival whereas I depend on no one. I live by my own rules and am a danger to no one but myself. 

As I reach the Slytherin common room I look around in distaste. Green is by far the most detestable color created to this day. Ravenclaws seemed to have achieved an agreement with someone; however, we are the least favored house in centuries. How were we given this obscene monstrosity to cope with for _seven years?! _The beginning of my insanity was inspired by the color green. It makes my fruitful existence seem fruitless. 

You will be relieved to know that I find no trace of the revolting solution (if you may call it that) upon my flawless reflection. My defectless whitish-blonde hair shines in the light as the mirror complains about the amount of gel I use. The gel is only there to get me through the day. What if one piece was out place? Impossible. My unblemished face is oil free with a potion supplied by Professor Snape personally. I, of course, would make the potion myself, but I would be afraid of adding something that leaves oil slicks. 

My manicured nails shine like polished glass. The gleam in my eyes shows my supreme intelligence. By now, you must think I am carbon copy of Professor Lockhart resurrected to show myself off to the world. I can assure you, while Lockhart uses memory charms upon his surpassing predecessors, I am simply the art of perfection. I do not use others to reach my state of utter supremacy, but I do show my confidence to the world. The world can accept me either way. 

As I enter my chamber, I am contented to find a fire built on the other side of my bed. My cat has disappeared into the kitchens again because the house elves have left a pile of food beside my bed. In retaliation, the animal still goes down to kitchens for a snack of mice. The house elves seem scared stiff of beautiful pet, but she only stalks prey that is vulnerable to her. Is it not my responsibility if one of the house elves are vulnerable to her. 

The embers of the fire seem to be dying little by little as I approach it. I would say it's the gateway to my soul if I was an overly emotional Hufflepuff. I would ignore the fire if I was a Ravenclaw. Our Ravenclaw cousins seem to own one of our flaws. I would be making out by the fire I was a Gryffindor skipping class. However, I am none of these things, so I merely sit by the fire and soak up its warmth. 

As I leaf through my homework, I throw Arithmancy and Care of Magical Creatures aside. I leave Transfiguration for last due to the sheer torture of it. I lay potions to the right for now because I need a real challenge. I come across Herbology, and I nearly throw it into the fire. I completely ignore my Defense Against the Dark Arts as I reach for my Charms assignment. It poses both a challenge, and something worth my time. I begin.

As I look back at this stage, I see I may have overexaggerated truths. Potter was still thickheaded, Care of Magical Creatures was still pointless, and my appearance wasn't flawless (as much as it pains me to admit this). I did control Crabbe and Goyle to my liking though. I still wonder whether they would graduate the following year. If my father is placed in Azkaban for his crimes, it is no loss to me. I still can't believe Potter made that many owls….  

Author's Notes: Don't flame me for perceiving Draco as egotistical. I told you I didn't like him from the beginning. Write constructive criticism if you wish, but not on my views of Draco. Ja ne ~Insane Pineapple from Naboo  


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